a fortiori
by ChidoriQueen
Summary: Because Kyubey never lies- stretches the convoluted, painful truth maybe, but never lies. Slightly AU, rated T for mature themes. One-shot.


**i.**

The girl with violet eyes and chin-length ebony hair presses the barrel of a gun to his temple, e gripping the trigger with a steady hand. Her lips move into words she can't hear over the whimsical voice in her head, and Okabe nods, a bead of sweat trickling down his brow.

Moeka's hands squeeze her neck firmly._ You're not needed, Mayuri. And you never will be._

Mayuri wants to scream, but all she can do is cry.

_You're so helpless, Mayuri. You're going to die, the people you love are going to die, and...all you can do is sit and cry. You want to change that, don't you? You don't want to be the one who's always protected, right? Don't you want to save him? Save the world? You have that power, Mayuri. You can do it. I believe in you!_

She nods unconsciously, stares at the white ceiling. "Yes." Her lips barely move.

A flash of light engulfs her. Everyone melts into gossamer threads that drift away, desperate voices in a language she cannot understand swarming her. She reaches out a hand to grab the dissipating image of Okabe, but before she can, the light snakes into her wrist, her eyes, her fingertips, and suddenly, everything burns. She's on fire; it hurts like nothing has, and she sees Okabe clutching her fiercely to his chest on a snowy day, Okabe falling asleep in her lap, Okabe peeking over her shoulder to admire her handiwork, Okabe, Okabe, Okabe, always there.

Mayuri screams. The pain drips away from her body like quicksilver and she finds herself standing barefoot in a barren wasteland. Storms clouds crackle and send shivers running up and down her spine as she curls her toes in the cold, cold sand.

A shadow that vaguely resembles Okabe sits besides her, on a rock. She can almost hear his laugh. "O-Okarin?" she quivers, reaching out a hand to touch him. Her fingertips slip through, and the image sputters before fading away.

"Hello, Mayuri." She can hear the smile in the voice.

What appeared to be a snow-white cat sat where Okabe once was. Its mouth is a faint "w", eyes a pale magenta and filled with boundless curiosity. Its tail swishes methodically back and forth. "It's an honor to finally meet you!"

"What...who are you?" she asks fearfully, backing away.

"I'm Kyubey!" it responds cheerfully. "And I want _you_ to make a contract with me. All you have to do is make a wish, and you'll become a magical girl! Just like that! You'll avenge the universe, become almost invincible! You'll be so strong and brave, _well_...you just might be the greatest magical girl in history! A wish, Mayuri. A wish is all it takes."

"A wish?" she echos, hands pressed to her chest. Her heart's barely beating. "Can you save Okarin? I'll do anything!"

"Whatever you want- I make miracles happen!"

She closes her eyes and nods. "Please, Kyubey...save Okarin. Save everyone. Make it all go away!"

And then, everything is gone.

* * *

**ii. **

When she opens her eyes, her head is in his lap. She blinks away tears and jumps up to wrap her arms around his waist and pressed her face into his shoulder. He grunts, confused, but rubs gentle circles onto her back.

"It's okay, Mayuri. It's okay."

The lab is lit by midday light. Her eyes immediately go to the table in the corner. The microwave has been replaced by a stack of boxes and all is blissfully quiet. She closes her eyes, stifling a quiet sob. "Is everything over, Okarin?"

"Is what over?" he asks, obviously puzzled.

"Oka-" The door is flung open by a familiar red-head, a plastic bag in hand. She stops when she sees them, stuttering apologetically, "Am...am I interrupting something? I'll come back late-"

Mayuri stands up and grins broadly at her. "Tuturu~! What did you buy, Kurisu?"

"Well, not much." She twirls a lock of hair between her fingers, forehead creased in a frown. "Just some snacks. Um, are you sure-"

"Perfect! Let's have a party!"

It's not until later she finds the delicate cerulean jewel in her dress pocket.

* * *

**iii.**

_You're strong now, Mayuri. You can overcome anything._

Steel cables latch onto her hand, stopping her in midair. She exhales shakily, angling her body so her heels smacked the witch's face. It feels mushy and coarse bristles tickle her bare ankles as the creature lets out a gurgly moan. Before she can react, spider webs snake out of its body and pin her against the wall.

She struggles against them, her wrist almost wriggling free of her constraints when a cable snatches her spear away from her, a cavernous gap materializing in the center of the bubbling mass and swallowing her weapon with a croaky burp.

Her eyes squeeze shut, body trembling, and she's prepared for everything to end.

A loud bang shatters the silence.

The girl with the violet eyes drops down from an opening in the ceiling, firing her rifle with near flawless accuracy. The monster groans, keeling over and letting out what sounds like all the suffering in the world condensed into a single cry as the webs dissipate. Mayuri falls to the ground, wide-eyed as the girl jumps high, impossibly high, silver bullets whisking past her to collide with the witch, holes spreading across its frame as if she's shooting drops of acid and filling the air with a sharply acrid stench.

With a crash, it collapses into itself, leaving a trail of ebony dust behind. The labyrinth fades into a room lit by the crimson of dusk. A girl lays on the floor, cocooned by the half-light. Mayuri's about to touch her shoulder when there's a scuffling behind her.

The girl is standing there, gun cocked towards her. If she feels anything, she doesn't show it.

Mayuri's chest flares in anger. "What...what did I ever do to you?! You try to kill Okarin, and now me? If...if you really hate me so much, then why did you save me in the first place?"

The girl doesn't answer. Something drifts out of the sky and lands in the palm of her outstretched hand. It's bulbous, with a needle poking out of it. She lowers her gun and pulls a soul gem the color of her eyes, pressing the object gently onto its curved surface. The brown-black color is slowly seeps away, leaving it twinkling, pure and flawless.

She notices Mayuri's curiosity. Her voice is distant and quiet, barely above a whisper. "It's a grief seed."

"A...grief seed?"

"A witch's egg. It belongs to the one who defeats it." She pockets her gem, steely gaze back on Mayuri. It's quiet for a moment, before the girl steps forward and holds the gun to the back of her head. "I'm sorry it had to end this way."

Before she can pull the trigger, the door is flung open. A girl with cotton-candy pink hair done up in ribbons stands there. Tiny fists go to her quivering mouth, eyes widened in . "A-Akemi-san?"

"It's Homura," she says simply, lowering her gun. Her voice constricts. "You're not supposed to be here, Madoka."

A reason to fight. A steely gaze softened.

* * *

**iv.**

The mark on the woman's collarbone fades. She lets out a breathy moan, eyes opening to find a blue-eyed girl peering down at her, forehead crinkled in concern. Her pantsuit is coated in a thick layer of dirt, hair tangled and matted.

The woman sits up and the girl sighs in relief. "Thank goodness, you're alright. I was afraid you weren't ever gonna wake up. How do you feel?"

She blinks at the girl, whose face is round and earnest, a certain twinkle in her eye. And, before she can stop herself, she throws her arms around her slender frame and sobs into her shoulder, thanking her over and over again between sharply-drawn breaths.

Mayuri smiles sadly, dress so drenched by salty tears she can't tell which ones are her own.

* * *

**v.**

Mayuri lies flat on her back, listening to the chorus of cicadas clumped outside her bedroom window. She envisions a star, blindly swiping for it to no avail. It slips silkily out of her grasp and laughs at her misfortunes and skips away.

There's a rustle from beneath her feet.

_They're here to kill me, too, aren't they?_

The silhouette of a tiny creature scampers from under the bed, quivering slightly, before diving into a basket of laundry.

A choking laugh erupts from her throat and she buries her face in her pillow to hide her tears from the sky.

* * *

**vi.**

The blonde girl is drenched in a pool of sweat, muddy water, and blood, breathing in gasping, choking breaths. Her hand is closed over a dark soul gem, tears seeping beneath her eyelids as she trembles in agony.

Mami Tomoe is breaking in front of Mayuri, and all she can do is watch.

"Hold on, Mami!" Mayuri pleads, pressing an ear to the girl's heart. "Please, just a little longer! They're coming! We're gonna help you! Mami!"

The skies groan around her, mist enveloping the pair, her cries barely piercing through the twilight.

The girl forces a smile, unclenching her fist. "I'm almost out of time, Mayuri...now, will you do me one last favor? It's all that I ask. Just one last time?"

She gasps, desperately shaking her head. "I-I can't-"

Her body is wracked by another sob. She screams, "Please, Mayuri! It's-it's coming!"

Mayuri decides she's done with crying. Done with running away.

Lifting her spear off the ground and ignoring the girl's grateful smile and nearly inaudible whimpers of pain, she says her prayers and good-byes, before stabbing downwards in a swift motion.

A sickening crack, and all is quiet.

* * *

**vii**

"Aren't you happy?" Kyubey asks her one day. "You get to sacrifice your life for the universe! I don't understand you girls- how could there be an honor greater than that? Thanks to your courage, countless lives are saved! Evil is purged! Don't you think that's a wonderful thing?"

"You don't understand," is her only reply, soul gem sitting on the palm of her hand as she rocks back and forth on her heels.

"Well, I _am_ incapable of understanding human emotions!" it replies, almost cheerfully, suggesting, "Why don't you go out and fight a witch? It'll keep your mind off things, speed up the process...it's a win-win situation, really- you have to pay me back for saving your friend's life, after all."

For a moment, it is silent.

"By the way...how is he?"

"In love." She tilts her head up, gazing at the ceiling. "And not with me." Her voice cracks.

Okabe smiling at Kurisu when he thought no one could see him. Okabe gently touching her hand when she fell asleep, frame stretched over the worn couch. Okabe and Kurisu arguing back in forth with a mischievous glint in his eyes and zest in his animated speech, talking, talking, talking.

"You throw away your souls for love, naively believing that he'll be grateful to you, that he'll always love you no matter what..all for nothing?" Kyubey muses, eyes locked on hers. "Don't you sometimes think that it's stupid?"

"You're right. You're so right. You've always been right," she says quietly, voice barely heard over the sound of pattering raindrops.

Because Kyubey never lies- stretches the convoluted, painful truth maybe, but never lies.

* * *

**viii.**

Mayuri sits in a deserted cafe, methodically stirring her lukewarm tea with a straw. _Over and over. Over and over._

"Um, are you alright, miss?" A waitress approaches her, lips pursed in a frown. "We're just about to close up, so-"

"Yes. I understand," she cuts her off, reaching into her pocket and slapping a generous amount of money on the table. She doesn't say anything when the waitress' eyes turn into round saucers, about to slouch away when the woman puts a hand on her shoulder. "Please let me say thank you, in any way I can! I don't have much, but- you see, my husband is sick, and-"

Mayuri doesn't listen. Only the words "thank you" echo in her head. Two words, repeated over and over in tandem, bound together and inseparable by physical means. Two words branded into her mind, concealing broken promises and dirty lies, words spoken by defeated witches but never, ever Okabe.

"Don't," is her only reply, gently prying the woman's quivering fingers off of her shoulder. "Nothing will ever be enough for me."

* * *

**ix.**

Their meetings are brash, evanescent, filled with empty gazes of has-beens, what should be loathing but probably isn't. It's pity in its murkiest form, thinly-veiled distaste, silence hanging like a mossy curtain and tangled with words that itch to be spoken.

The girl with the violet eyes' hair is tousled, eyes hollow, lips cracked.

When Mayuri looks at her, she wonders if she's staring at her own reflection.

They sit side by side on the sidewalk. The girl's fingers run up and down the cool metal surface of the gun. "I could kill you now, if I wanted to."

"Ah, but the question is-" Mayuri chuckles humorlessly, something tugging her lips into a half-smirk, half-frown. "-will you?"

* * *

**x.**

An apple rolls on the ground in front of her. Its skin is a deep crimson, almost too pristine to touch. Something wills Mayuri to stop.

"Ah, pick that up for me, will you?" comes a candy-coated drawl.

A girl with red hair tied in a messy ponytail stands ahead of her, a paper bag filled to the brim with apples under her arm. A hand is stuck in the pocket of her light blue hoodie, a permanent grin etched onto her round face.

"What, you a mute or something?" she scoffs, rolling her eyes. "Pick the goddamn thing up."

Mayuri doesn't move, doesn't answer.

"You think you're being clever or something?" the girl snarls, teeth sharp and oddly vampiric. _"Pick it up."_

"What if I don't want to?"

"Wanna fight, girlie?" She tosses the bag onto the ground with reckless abandon, the fruit spilling out and tumbling down the pavement. "Aw, look like what you made me do! It took effort to steal those!"

Something inside of Mayuri snaps. The spear materializes in her hand.

The girl's face spreads into a goofy, genuine smile. "Oh, I see. You're a magical girl, too? Sorry for being tough with you. Wouldn't have done it otherwise. So...tell me your name! I'm Kyoko. Kyoko Sakura."

Mayuri walks past her and into the sunset, leaving the bruised apple lying on the sidewalk.

* * *

**xi.**

Her fingers nimbly thread the needle, moving it in and out of the lilac fabric. Mind elsewhere, she pricks her finger, a drop of rosy blood blooming on the half-mended dress. She licks it off her finger, the metallic taste somehow comforting.

Okabe places a hand on her shoulder before she can leave without a good-bye. "Um, Mayuri...are you okay? You seem kind of off today."

_I'm not, Okarin. I've never been._

"I'm fine," she says stiffly, giving him a sliver of a smile

The next day she wears the dress, proudly sporting the blotch of dried, browning blood.

* * *

**xii.**

The witches show Mayuri her worst fears, her coldest memories, plague her dreams with cackles and illusions of another world. But for some reason, she treasures the nightmares, wakes up in a cold sweat and tucks them in the internally secure compartment of her fragile heart.

For a few precious moments, she can pretend she's still the naive Mayuri she used to be. Pretend that she never made that contract and she and Kurisu and Okarin could be_ happy _together.

Happiness? Mayuri thinks she's forgotten.

Forgiveness? A mere whim.

Because all she feels is numb.

_Okabe, a lanky teenager, plucks a dandelion out of the ground and hands it to her, grinning shyly._

_Okabe reaches for her through the fog, screaming words she cannot hear._

_Okabe holds onto her and never lets her go._

Mayuri wakes up, the weight of cruel reality sends her head reeling, and the cycle repeats.

It's nice to fantasize every once in awhile, she thinks.

* * *

**xiii.**

Mayuri sits on the railing of a building, legs dangling over the ledge. Her soul gem is cupped in her hand, radiating with a glowing warmth. She toys with the idea of dropping it, letting it tumble past unsuspecting golden lights and laughing crowds, letting it fall into the gutter and lay there, tainted and dark and non-glowing, for all of eternity.

The thought is terribly romantic to her.

"Anyone tell you that this place is mine?"

It's Kyoko Sakura, Pocky stuffed in her mouth, leaning against the railing. It creaks precariously with the added weight.

"Don't talk with your mouth full," she offers unhelpfully, heart constricting in disgust.

"Well, look who's Miss Fancy Pants." Kyoko sticks her tongue out at her, and Mayuri turns away. "Hey, hope you don't mind me asking, but...what did you wish for?"

She doesn't speak. A light breeze tickles her face, lifts the hair off of the nape of her sweaty neck.

"It was for someone else, right?"

Mayuri nods slowly.

"Someone you loved, right?"

Another nod, albeit after a heartbeat of hesitation.

Kyoko sighs, slowly chewing yet another Pocky. "Yeah. So you were doing something wrong from the very beginning. That's Rule One of being a magical girl- never make wishes for someone else. We're a selfish race, ya know?"

But Mayuri knows. She's always known.

* * *

**xiv.**

The night is cloudy, stars jagged.

Mayuri taps a cluttered box good-bye, the couch good-bye, Okabe's sleeping form good-bye, before walking outside. She inhales, exhales, the click of her shoes the only sound in the near deserted streets. A dim streetlight barely illuminates her face, barely illuminates anything at all.

To no one in particular, she says, "Tuturu."

Old Mayuri reprimands her for such a half-hearted greeting, even it's only to the cool night.

But this, this was good-bye to the old Mayuri. It didn't matter anyone.

She clasps the soul gem to her chest, closes her eyes. An imaginary clock ticks between the muddled thoughts, the panicked screams of a dying girl, someone shouting her name over and over again.

But she pays it no heed, smiling for the last time, lips a sliver of the full moon.

The world ends, but there is no one but the girl with the violet eyes to watch.

"Walpurgis Night," the heavens murmur. "It has finally begun."


End file.
